


Turn The Nob, Turn Me On

by GoldenTruth813



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Harry Potter Next Generation, James is Shameless, M/M, Masturbation, POV Teddy Lupin, UST, Voyeurism, Wanking with a Voyeur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 05:26:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14664242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/pseuds/GoldenTruth813
Summary: Teddy didn't mean to walk in on James wanking, but he can't seem to turn around.





	Turn The Nob, Turn Me On

**Author's Note:**

> So much appreciation to me beta.
> 
> Written for May's rarepair bingo using a whopping ONE fill *wanking with a voyeur). Also couldn't keep this under 1K because it's not my fucking fault Teddy wants James so much.

There were several moments in Teddy’s short twenty-five years of life that would be forever burned into his brain.

Being eight years old and accused of stealing his best friend’s toy broom and having none of the primary school teachers believe him when he said he hadn’t done it, because _“Teddy could’ve made himself look like anyone. We don’t know he didn’t do it,”_ and realising for the first time his metamorphmagus abilities would always make him different. That no matter how hard he tried, they were just one more thing that made him different.

Putting on the Sorting Hat at eleven years old hearing the word _Hufflepuff_ shouted before the hat had even settled on his head—equal parts shame and pride. Wondering if being like his mum made him less like his dad.

The day he’d got his prefect letter at fifteen, his first thought not what his Gran would think, but whether his parents would’ve been proud. The first time he’d had sex with Victoire—he’d been seventeen and madly infatuated with her beauty as much as he was her brain—and though they’d ended things less than six months later he always remembered their time together as one of the warmest times in his life. The day he’d been made Head Boy—the first time he’d felt sure, without a doubt, that his mum and dad would’ve been proud of who he’d become. The moment he’d been accepted into the Auror program and the look of absolute delight on Harry’s face as he hugged him close and whispered, “I’ll teach you everything, Teddy. I’m so proud of you.”

And now this. This exact moment will be burned into Teddy’s brain like a brand forever—James’s eyes squeezed shut, face screwed up in pleasure as his cock slides between his fingers, a soft sigh escaping his mouth—while Teddy’s hand still grips the door handle tightly. He knows he should move back, should shut the door quietly behind him. But it’s James. James half naked and wanking and fuck it all if Teddy hasn’t pictured James like this more times than he wants to admit over the last two months. Ever since James came back from training camp with windswept hair and a sort of confidence in his movements that stripped away any and all thoughts of James being too young.

They’ve been flirting for weeks and it occurs to Teddy now that perhaps he’s been playing with fire every time he let James’s fingers linger on his thigh or said what was thinking as freely as James seemed to. It’d felt harmless at first. And then once he’d realised it possibly wasn’t, well, it was too late because Teddy liked it. Teddy liked the way it felt for James’s gaze to linger on him, liked the way James’s breath would catch when Teddy got a bit closer than he needed, and he really liked the way James looked when Teddy would catch him alone, teasing James until James’s face was red and he could see even through his trousers that his cock was hard, only to have to dart away when Harry would yell for him from the other room.

Teddy doesn’t mean to make a noise, really he doesn't. It’s just that James is so preoccupied he doesn’t seem to have noticed Teddy standing in his doorway and fuck, how is Teddy supposed to breathe when James’s back arches up off the bed like that—his cock jutting out as his fingers slide down to the base and the curve of his arse sliding against his sky blue of his cotton sheets. James’s joggers are shoved down around his ankles as if he couldn’t be bothered to remove them, as if he’d not even had the patience to get completely naked before fucking his own hand.

James’s eyes fly open at the groan Teddy makes, his hand dropping down to the bed and his head turning to the side. “Teddy?”

“Fucking—fuck. Shit. _Fuck_. I’m sorry. I should have knocked. Harry said you were upstairs and I—fuck, I should go.” Except Teddy’s not moving backwards. Not even a little bit. Instead of leaving, his fucking feet take one step forward.

James’s cheeks are flushed, from arousal or embarrassment Teddy isn’t sure. “Shut the door, Teddy.” James’s voice is low, unwavering.

“Right. _Fuck_ , I’m so sorry, I should go. I—”

“Shut the door with you _inside_ .” James looks at him pointedly and Teddy doesn’t need to be told twice, stepping to the side and slamming it shut behind him. His cock is already half hard in his jeans. It’d probably be harder if he weren’t terrified Harry might come up and ask what the fuck they were doing. Harry had said James was upstairs getting ready for his first professional match, that Teddy should _“Go and see if he needs a hand with anything.”_ Teddy’s pretty sure this isn’t what Harry had in mind.

It feels ridiculous to be so unsure now, when he’s been the one starting things with James these past few weeks.

“I can still go. Maybe I should go.”

James’s chest rises and falls rhythmically as he watches Teddy, dragging his hand down his chest until it’s wrapped loosely around his cock again. “ _Stay_. I want you to stay.”

Teddy can think of a million and one reasons to leave and only one to stay, except the one reason to stay is _James_ and that’s reason enough for anything. Always has been. Probably always will be.

He remembers James at five begging him for extra pudding when his mum said no and the way Teddy had shrunk his own his bowl of apple cobbler and hidden it in his pockets to take to James later. He thinks of James at eleven begging to sit at the Hufflepuff table at least once a week—his friends grumbling about Teddy being followed around by a half pint Gryffindor—and how just like always, Teddy had ignored them all and shoved over to make enough room on the bench for James. He thinks of James at seventeen, all bright eyes and pink lips as he’d confessed he’d never been kissed. Teddy’d known James wanted him to be his first kiss and he was glad James didn’t ask because Teddy wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to deny him. He thinks of James at eighteen, confessing he’d been kissed now but never been fucked. He hadn't asked in words, but words hadn't been necessary.

Teddy’d been too flustered to do anything and the next morning James left for four months of Quidditch training camp. He sent letters when he wasn't too tired, which was far less often than Teddy would've liked. And then when he'd come home, fuck, Teddy thought he might die from the way he still wanted James.

Before James had left for camp, wanting him had made Teddy’s head swirl with guilt. This was _James_ —the boy he'd spent his life protecting and giving piggyback rides to. He'd watched Harry change his nappy and helped babysat him for fuck’s sake. He’d looked at James and despite all the ways he wanted him—and fuck, were there a lot of ways—he still couldn't stop seeing Harry and Ginny when he looked at him.

But the James who had returned from Quidditch camp, while decidedly still one hundred percent the same in personality, had somehow changed physically—had become even fitter over the long summer turned autumn. He'd grown another two inches at least, shoulders broadened and skin kissed from the warm Spanish sun. James seemed older somehow, more comfortable in his body and most noticeably, more forward with his desires, which he was either doing worse at hiding or had given up hiding.

This time when James got close, Teddy got _closer_ . When James flirted subtly, testing the waters, Teddy flirted unabashedly in a way that left James coughing and excusing himself to the loo. And when James whispered “ _I still haven't been fucked”_ just last week, Teddy hadn't thought twice before whispering, “ _Maybe one day you can show me how you want me to touch you.”_

Except now Teddy was thinking twice. Teddy was thinking _what the bloody fuck am I doing_ as he stood in the middle of James’s childhood bedroom. In his godfather’s house. Watching his not-so-little-anymore godbrother slide his thumb across the slit of his cock, smearing the pre-come and groaning.

“Jamie.”

James shivered at the sound of his name, his rhythm faltering as he let his eyes flutter almost shut. James licked his lips, moving his other hand down to cup his balls as he sped up his strokes. Teddy’s feet felt spelled to the ground but thankfully, despite his feet being unable to move, his hands weren't and he moved one to the front of his jeans, pressing it against his erection and biting back a moan.

“Fuck,” James groaned, spreading his legs wider as he gripped the base of his cock in one hand and rolled his balls in his other hand. “You have idea, Teddy. No fucking idea. Dad said you were coming over and just knowing I was going to see you had me aching for it.”

“Merlin’s fucking balls, James.” This was too much. He'd known James had a mouth on him but this was beyond his wet dreams and fuck, if he hadn't had an embarrassingly large number of those the last few days.

“This is where I like to be, ngh—” but James broke off on a moan, chest heaving as he let go of his balls and fisted that hand in the sheets and pulled hard enough to put a hole in them, his upstroke faster and his legs quivering. “Fuck, Teddy, fuck, fuck.”

Teddy couldn't blame him for his lack of coherence as he didn't feel all too capable of stringing words together, either. Especially not when James let out a strangled cry seconds later, his stomach quivering as it was sprayed in thick ropes of come.

“Fuck,” Teddy sighed and James cracked an eye open.

“Fucking. Definitely fucking next time, if you can keep it up old man.” And then he winked at Teddy, the cheeky fucker.

Teddy felt his nerves melt away. He felt giddy with relief and ashamed he'd entertained the idea that things might be awkward, that anything with James—James, who knew everything about him and wanted him, who knew exactly what to do to turn him on or calm him down—could be anything less than perfect.

“Oh, I'll show you,” Teddy laughed, pulling his wand out of his back pocket and vanishing the mess on James before letting his feet finally carry him across the room and onto the bed as he straddled James and pressed his still-clothed erection against James’s thigh, delighting in the way James’s shudder reverberated through his own body. “Think you can keep up?”

James threw his head back and laughed, wrapping his legs around Teddy and sliding his fingers into Teddy’s hair, which was turning an unfamiliar shade of sea green at the tips.

“Only one way to find out,” James answered, before kissing Teddy.


End file.
